


when it all goes to hell (will you be able to tell?)

by lesbianpatrick



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Elemental Magic, M/M, Magic, Nuclear Apocalypse, Post-Apocalyptic, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianpatrick/pseuds/lesbianpatrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world, and of course the responsibility to fix everything that's gone to shit somehow ends up on their shoulders.</p>
<p>A post-nuclear-apocalypse AU with witches and shit because I just don't have any dignity anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know anymore inspiration struck and I just. This.
> 
> Nuclear apocalypse with magic and shit? Sure. Why not.
> 
> Another chaptered fic, oops.
> 
> I actually have a plot for this one, good.
> 
> So...enjoy?

They don’t really know that the world is about to end, but the can’t-be-older-than-13 emo girl that seems to be kidnapping them at this moment with the help of her blonde-stereotype friend sure seems to.

“What the fuck?” Pete yells as Miss Blonde Stereotype drags both him and Patrick down a narrow alleyway with surprising strength.

“No time to explain. We can’t let you die.” Emo Teenage Girl says, and she’s got Andy and Joe, who seem a bit more indifferent to the situation, but then again, Andy is always indifferent, and Joe is still half-asleep.

“Why would we die?” Patrick asks, frowning. He’d given up struggling a while ago (though Pete still hadn’t).

“Okay, long story short.” Miss Blonde Stereotype speaks up in a voice that could belong to a pop singer. “My name’s Amanda, that’s is my little sis Becca, and our mom is going to cause the nuclear apocalypse in t-minus thirty minutes.”

“Don’t call me your little sis.” Becca grunts out, struggling a lot more with pulling two fully grown men down an alley than her sister is.

“Oh, sure. Just. The nuclear apocalypse.” Pete rolls his eyes. “And okay, giving you the benefit of the doubt, if somehow your mom is about to cause the nuclear apocalypse, you’re kidnapping us _why_?”

“There’s a bomb shelter back here.” Amanda replies steadily, stopping at the end of the alleyway. “And you guys can’t die.”

“Okay, but why not?” Andy asks, finally joining the conversation.

“It’ll make sense eventually.” Becca replies, finally making it to the end of the alley.

Amanda drops Pete and Patrick, who share a look and decide that running is not a good idea right now. Then she fluidly moves to push a brick on the wall inwards. It spins and reveals a screen, which she taps once. A keypad appears, and she types in _050603_. A section in the wall slides open to reveal, yeah, a bomb shelter.

“What the hell.” Pete says simply, finally getting up off the ground.

“Get in, and don’t leave until the alarm sounds to say it’s safe.” Amanda commands, gesturing to the open door.

“Can I sleep in there?” Joe mumbles, finally awake enough to process what’s going on, but just barely.

“No, there are just perfectly good bunks in there for the _sex_.” Becca rolls her eyes. “Yes, you can sleep, idiot.”

Joe nods in approval and goes back to being too asleep to care.

“I’m sorry, just...you seriously want us to get into a bunker because of an apocalypse that may never really happen?” Patrick asks, frowning. “How’s your mom supposedly going to do that, anyway?”

“She can hack anything, including the world’s military nuke systems.” Amanda answers, looking annoyed that the guys won’t just get in the bunker. 

“How the fuck do you hack _military nuke systems_? Magic?” Pete asks, raising an eyebrow.

Becca and Amanda share an unreadable look.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Pete groans.

“Get in the fucking bunker.” Becca commands, pointing one black-painted nail at the door.

“I think that may be a good idea.” Andy says.

“Oh god, now _you_ believe them?” Pete groans.

“Well, to be fair, if they’re lying, at least we won’t be harmed, right?” Patrick shrugs.

“Okay, _fine_.” Pete glares. “I’ll get in the fucking bunker.”

He steps through the doorway. “Happy?”

“Very.” Amanda says, face still expressionless. “Bec, throw the lazy one in a bunk.”

Becca rolls her eyes. “God, his name’s Joe. _Bieber fan_.” But she complies and moves into the bunker to put Joe in one of the bunks.

“He has some good songs, okay? Better than your stuff.” Amanda rolls her eyes back.

“Excuse me, _my stuff_ is literally standing right here and need to _get in the fucking bunker_ , so please shut up.” Becca glares at her sister, then turns to Patrick and Andy. “You two coming, or accepting nuclear death?”

“Sure.” Patrick sighs and joins Pete inside the bunker’s sturdy-looking metal walls.

“Okay.” Andy shrugs and follows. He hasn’t said much the entire time and doesn’t seem to care much either way.

“Good.” Becca steps out. “Now, only come out when the alarm goes off. Trust me, you’ll know when it does. It’s not like you could leave anyway, the door will be self-locked until the alarm. You’ve got enough food for the four of you for two months, which should be fine for your time in there plus some time outside to start you off. When you get out, _move_. If you stay in one place too long, They will come.” You could practically hear her capitalize “They”.

“They?” Pete asks.

“No time to explain. T-minus 15 minutes.” Amanda says, obviously to silence her younger sister.

“Wait, will you two be okay?” Patrick asks.

“Yeah, Mom still thinks we’re on her side.” Becca grins. “Also, once you get out...just know that we may or may not be liable for any weird occurrences.”

Pete frowns. “Like...what?”

Becca winks and slams the door in their faces.

Pete immediately starts pounding on the huge metal door, but it’s no use. The thing is locked, and locked tight.

“Well, I guess it’s time to wait out the apocalypse?” Patrick asks, attempting to smile awkwardly.

“No, it’s time to break out the food supply.” Pete says, moving to a back wall cabinet labeled “FOOD” in bright red spray paint. “I’m fucking starving.”

Joe is still asleep.

Andy, as usual, is still indifferent.

While they all sit in the bunker, the world ends.

~*~   
Patrick is awoken by a flashing red light and a speaker blasting _The Take Over, The Break’s Over_. He feels like punching whoever thought that was a good idea for an alarm, then he realizes.

An _alarm_.

“Shit!” He sits bolt upright, causing the remainder of canned lentil soup he ate last night to fall to the floor.

Pete, Andy, and Joe are all waking up now too.

“IOH? Who the fuck.” Pete says, groaning and rubbing his temples. “I want sleep, not any of our nine-year-old stuff on full volume, thanks.”

“Shut the fuck up, Pete.” Joe says, yawning.

“You guys do realize it’s _the alarm_ , right?” Patrick asks. “We can _go outside_.”

“Oh!” Pete’s face is overtaken by a grin, then he rolls his eyes. “God damn it, Becca is trash.”

“True.” Andy says, finally saying something.

“Oh good, the fake apocalypse is over.” Joe says, immediately getting out of bed. “C’mon, did anyone really believe that?”

Pete, Patrick, and Andy share a sort of guilty look and Joe groans. “Look. I’ll open this damn door and prove that you guys all fell for some dumb joke.”

“I don’t know...” Patrick says.

Joe walks to the door and turns around. “Okay, ready to see how you were wrong?” 

Pete rolls his eyes. “ _Sure_.”

Joe punches the blue button labeled “open” that’s mounted on the wall next to the large metal door. There’s a beeping, then it swings open. Joe turns to look outside, then his face falls. He no longer looks like he won. “Holy shit.”

Everything seems to have been reduced to dust. Only basic frames and a few bricks remain of the buildings of downtown Chicago. Everything is tinged yellow, and the sun looks too bright. There’s nothing living in sight. It looks like, well...a nuclear wasteland.

“Are we still wrong?” Andy asks.

Joe just shakes his head, eyes still wide. “Nope. You are very, very right.”

Pete makes his way to the door and stares at the post-apocalyptic scene before them. “Oh god. We’re dead.”

“No, everyone else is. We’re alive.” Patrick corrects him. Then they all fall into an uncomfortable silence.

Andy passes all of them and steps outside. “Well, it seems safe. You guys want to come out?”

“Come out? Sure, I’m gay as hell.” Pete says, and everyone glares at him.

“We know that, Pete. You know what he meant.” Patrick sighs.

Joe follows Andy out. “Whoa. This is like fucking Fallout right here.”

“Ironic.” Pete says, following Andy and Joe out. 

Patrick follows the rest of his bandmates outside, becoming the last to set foot on the dead soil.

“Hey, what’s that?” He asks, pointing to graffiti on the remaining brick walls.

Rainbow words spell out phrases like “ _the Saviors will come_ ”, “ _they will survive_ ”, “the Chosen Ones are not dead”, and “ _they will bring back life_ ”.

“Religious shit.” Pete says dismissively, shrugging.

Patrick won’t say aloud that for some reason the words hit too close to home with him, and he thinks everyone else is thinking the same thing.

“So. Anyone have a copy of Surviving The Nuclear Apocalypse For Dummies?” Joe tries to joke.

Andy sighs. “I wish.”

They all stand there, looking out on the nuclear wasteland in front of them.

It’s literally the end of the world.

And for all they know, they’re the only life left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The graffiti reveals its meaning, the Saviors are revealed, and we meet Them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) i cannot sleep so i wrote chapter 2
> 
> this is like a crack fic whoops

Patrick kicks at a coca-cola can. He isn’t sure how it survived the literal apocalypse, but hey. Who cares at this point.

They keep passing the strange graffiti. It all contains something about “the Saviors” or “the Chosen Ones”, or just something about how they will give life and how they aren’t dead. 

Patrick feels sorry for the artists; their Saviors or whatever are probably dead already.

“Okay, this is officially creepy.” Pete says. He’s stopped to look at something that Patrick can’t quite see.

Patrick turns to see what he’s looking at, and sees another piece of graffiti, but this one seems older, and more faded. It’s in the form of a poem:

_and though They say the Chosen are dead_  
have we ever listened to what They said?  
together, the four unite as one  
they will save what lies under the sun  
and we can only hope that when they return  
there is something left that hasn’t been burned  
the Chosen will rise, and They will die 

_trust in us  
we will keep them alive_

The last two lines seem to be disconnected from the rest. And then, under it all, is a very familiar symbol that resembles something like a trapezoid with a crown; it’s _their_ symbol.

“Okay, I didn’t want to mention this before, but does anyone else get the feeling that all this stuff about the Chosen or whatever is actually about...” Patrick swallows. “...us?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Joe nods.

“The last bit on that one seems like Becca or Amanda. They said we had to stay alive, right?” Andy points out.

“Holy shit, are we an actual prophecy? Because that’s badass.” Pete grins.

“Yeah, sure.” Patrick rolls his eyes. “But it’d be even more badass if you could show me a copy of Repairing The World After The Nuclear Apocalypse With Only Four Pretty Average Guys For Dummies.”

“Let Pete have his fun.” Andy says. “I mean, if you think about it, we do kind of match up with it all.”

“And we could do something if we tried hard enough, I guess?” Joe shrugged.

“Hey. Hey, look at that one!” Pete points to the largest intact wall they’d seen all day. On it is a huge group of five symbols.

In the middle is their symbol, yet again. Surrounding it is a feathery wing, a torch, a vine, and a blue swirl that could’ve been an artistic rendering of absolutely fucking anything.

“Okay, and those mean...what, exactly?” Patrick sighs. He shifts his bag (they each took one from the bunker and filled it with food) on his shoulders.

“Maybe they’re supposed to be us? I don’t fucking know.” Pete sighs. He turns to the horizon, where the too-bright sun is setting, making an eerily green sunset. “I think we should sleep on it.”

“I’m in.” Joe grins. He tosses down his bag. “We still have two packs of cold ravioli. What say we break out one tonight in honor of probably being a prophecy, maybe?”

“Sure.” Patrick sets down his bag next to Joe’s. “I’m tired anyway.”

“Cool.” Andy nods.

They all gather around, and Pete uses a flashlight to light their spot up, because they can’t make a fire (how would they?).

They eat cold ravioli, splitting the package, then they all share a can of super-cold chicken noodle soup because they have like fifty of those and they’re all still a bit hungry.

And then they sleep. As he drifts off, Patrick finds himself staring at the huge wall they’re camped under. He swears that as he falls asleep, the huge white wing that’s sprayed onto the bricks moves a little.

Or he’s hallucinating, maybe from radiation poisoning.

He doesn’t care at this point.

So he sleeps.

~*~

Patrick is the first to wake up. When he does, the first thing he thinks is that his back itches, and it’s too cold. Did he end up taking off his shirt? What?

He reaches back to scratch the itch, and his hand bumps into something protruding from his back. He freezes. It’s kinda of soft, and he feels bone underneath, and when he touches it he can feel it like it’s his own limb. What the fuck.

He traces his hand along whatever it is, and feels a neat curve. Also, feathers. The softness is feathers.

Slowly, he turns around, hoping that for his own sake whatever it is isn’t what he thinks it is.

It is.

Two large, white, feathery wings are sprouting from his shoulder blades. He stares at them, wide-eyed. They look very nice, but he’d rather see them attached to anything but _his own back_ , thanks.

Well, at least now he knows why his back is cold. These things have shredded his shirt. He’s going to need a new one, which he gets the feeling won’t be easy to come by.

He finds his eyes wandering up and he sees the wall again. Suddenly he sees the wing symbol again, and remembers what Pete said about the symbols maybe representing the four of them. No way. This couldn’t actually be some prophecy bullshit, right?

And then what about the other three symbols?

Patrick turns to where Pete, Andy, and Joe were sleeping, feeling the wings move with his movements, which is just plain _weird_ , and the first thing he notices is Andy is literally asleep in a bed of flowers.

The flowers were:

A. Not there last night

B. An arrangement of different shapes and colors, and

C. Growing in a fucking _nuclear wasteland_.

“Okay, what.” Patrick says aloud.

_Vine symbol?_ he thinks.

He notices Pete stir as he speaks, so he turns towards him. Patrick doesn’t see anything alarming about Pete, but he’s willing to bet there’s something up with him to do with the torch or the who-knows-what-it-is blue swirl thing symbol.

“‘M awake, ‘m awake.” Pete mumbles, yawning. He lazily rubs his hands together as he wakes up, and Patrick watches in horror as they _catch on fire_.

But Pete’s hands don’t seem to be damaged by that at all. They’re just...casually on fire. 

“Torch.” Patrick says decisively.

“The hell?” Pete mumbles, and Patrick watches as he looks down at his hands and screams. “Holy shit. I’m. It doesn’t hurt? What?”

He turns to Patrick, and his eyes widen. “Um. ‘Trick, you’ve got...”   
“Yeah, I know. And your hands are on fire.” Patrick deadpans.

“I noticed.” Pete nods, sitting up. “They don’t seem to be going out.”

“The flame also doesn’t appear to be spreading.” Patrick points out.

Pete nods. “Mm, true.”

“Okay, the fuck?”

Pete and Patrick turn to see Joe sitting up and staring at them. 

“Morning.” Pete says, grinning and waving one burning hand at Joe.

“Did we find drugs? I think there were drugs involved in this.” Joe announces, frowning.

“Nah, I think it’s just prophecy bullshit.” Patrick supplies not-so-helpfully.

“Hey, uh, Joe?” Pete says, pointing awkwardly at Joe’s neck. “I think you’ve got, um. Gills.”

Joe’s hand flies to his neck, and Patrick notes that yeah, he does. Too bad pretty much the only water in existence anymore is the stuff in plastic bottles in their bags, he could probably breathe underwater with those.

The blue swirl thing is probably a wave, Patrick notes.

“Okay. That’s not weird.” Joe says, pursing his lips. He gestures to Andy. “And he’s got fucking plants. Okay.”

Patrick suddenly realizes. “ _Oh_. It’s like...it’s like earth...” He points to Andy, still asleep in his flower bed. “...fire...” He points to Pete, who has just happily extinguished his hands. “...water...” He points to Joe, who is still subconsciously rubbing his neck. “...and air.” He points at himself, giving an experimental flap of his wings, which he is surprised to find actually works.

“So not only are we some bullshit prophecy, it’s also a bullshit prophecy involving using fucking _elemental magic_ to fix the nuclear apocalypse. Yeah, sure.” Pete rolls his eyes. 

“Holy shit, I can make it!” Joe exclaims, gesturing to where he has a small floating blob of water that definitely wasn’t there before, balanced midair above his hand.

Pete grins at Patrick. “Alright, dude. I set myself on fire, Andy’s growing a garden, Joe somehow _makes water_ , can you magically produce air for me?”

“Haha.” Patrick says sarcastically and gives Pete a death glare, but then a sudden strong wind blows through the area and they both shut up (because there’s no way in hell that was a coincidence).

“By the way, I’ve been awake the whole time and you’re all idiots.” Andy suddenly says, opening his eyes. 

“Thanks for the words of encouragement.” Pete rolls his eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait, this is too easy.” Patrick frowns. “We could literally save the world right now, no problem. We can create everything essential to life. So what’s the twist? It can’t be that easy.”

As if on cue, grotesque noises start coming from somewhere near by. The four friends turn to see a group of what look like gray ghosts; transparent wisps that may have once been human beings. Patrick shivers involuntarily. They look soulless. 

“I guess that’s the twist.” Andy says.

“Why do I feel like these are what Amanda and Becca meant by They?” Joe asks.

“Because I think they _are._ ” Pete backs away from an approaching ghost-thing.

“ _Surrender, Saviors_.” One of the grotesque, twisted creatures speaks in a husky, ruined voice. “ _Or we will be forced to kill you_.”

“Hey, I think you’ve got the wrong guys.” Patrick says nervously, but he knows full well that They have definitely got the right guys.

“ _No, impossible. You bear the power of the Saviors. We can see it, Winged One_.” The same creature replies.

That makes Patrick a bit uncomfortable; he’d rather just pretend he doesn’t have wings, thanks.

The group of Them circles the guys, and Andy hops up from his flower bed to move in closer with everyone else. They all press tightly together in a circle, and Pete presses up uncomfortably against Patrick’s wings. 

They’re surrounded.

“Oh, shit.” Pete groans. “How are we going to get out of this one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at least it's kinda a cliffhanger (spoiler alert pete probably just tries to burn everything but idk if that will work or not yet and i'm the author)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens. That's pretty much it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT
> 
> I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER
> 
> it might be kind of short but so is Patrick and he's gr8 so
> 
> Idek why I said that
> 
> Blame Kell, they made me do it
> 
> Enjoy!

"Okay, idea one. Fucking burn them." Pete says decisively, nodding as if to agree with himself. 

"Do that, then!" Patrick insists, gesturing to the ever-nearing group of gray creatures. 

"Yeah. Okay." Pete rubs his hands together, and they promptly catch on fire again. He frowns for a minute, appearing to consider what exactly to do with his flaming hands, then he pulls his hand back as if he was throwing a baseball, and pitches. 

A bright ball of flame flies from his hand and hits one of Them square in the forehead. It explodes in a cloud of gray dust. 

"Hell yeah!" Pete grins, pumping his still flaming fist in the air, then pauses. "Uh, I can't exactly take them all on my own. Can anyone else do anything?"

"Of course." Andy nods, grinning as two large Jack-and-the-Beanstalk-reminiscent vines sprout out of the ground on either side of him. The vines both wrap around clusters of Them and crush them to dust. 

"Badass plants. Who knew." Pete says, laughing and chucking another fireball. 

"Guys! Guys! Finger water guns!" Joe announces, grinning as he does finger guns at one of Them, and unnaturally blue blasts of water fly from his fingertips and straight through its face, and then that one crumbles to dust too. 

"I don't think I have anything." Patrick sighs, watching his friends chuck fireballs, command destructive plants, and shoot water from fingertips. 

"Yeah you do! Remember the wind?" Pete replies, nailing two of Them with a ridiculously large fireball and grinning. 

"I don't see how that helps, but...sure?" Patrick shrugs and concentrates on raw emotion like he remembers feeling like doing before, and then it happens. A huge gust of wind blows through the space, and it picks up some of Pete's un-thrown fire on its way. 

The result is a fire wind that immediately destroys the rest of Them in one fell swoop.

"So. Is that a yes on joining forces occasionally?" Joe asks. 

"Holy shit, 'Trick, that was fucking awesome!" Pete grins. 

"Yeah, sure. The fire made it like that, though." Patrick mumbles in return. 

"Oh, take a compliment." Pete rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. 

"So. Do you think we should do what the quote unquote 'bullshit prophecy' wants us to do?" Andy asks, gesturing to the destroyed landscape as if to emphasize his point. 

"How do we do that, though?" Pete asks, looking around. 

"I don't know! Magic! We seem to have it!" Joe replies, throwing a small ball of water at Pete for emphasis. 

"Yeah, no shit!" Pete replies, rolling his eyes. "But what do we do with it?"

"How about this?" Andy asks. 

Everyone turns to him, and there's a fucking _forest_ behind him. 

"Yeah, seems good." Patrick nods in agreement. 

"Only one problem: the water cycle is sort of nonexistent, so these are all gonna die when we leave." Andy says, gesturing to the trees. He gives Joe a look. "And no, we can't just dump a shit ton of water on them. I know you're thinking that." 

"Damn it!" Joe says, crossing his arms in frustration. 

"Okay, so...what then?" Pete asks, frowning. 

"Does anyone know how to start a rainstorm?" Andy asks. 

"Well, I mean, clouds are just condensed water vapor..." Patrick starts. 

"And water vapor is pretty much just heated water!" Pete exclaims, turning to grin at Joe. "How comfortable are you with getting really close to fire?"

Joe grins back. "I see where you're going with this."

Patrick can tell where this is going too. Joe flicks his wrist, sending a stream of water over in Pete's direction. Pete's hand doesn't actually catch on fire this time, but it must be hot, because when the water lands on it, it disappears and steam rises upwards.

"This'll take forever." Patrick mutters, rolling his eyes.

Andy nods in agreement. "There's no way they'll create enough steam to create enough clouds in under a-"

Thunder rings out in the sky. 

"Day." Andy finishes weakly. 

Patrick looks up to the sky, which has already filled with dark clouds, heavy with rain. "Okay, that's impossible."

"Says the guy who woke up with wings!" Pete calls, walking over with Joe. 

"Shut up." Patrick says, and flips him off. Pete just laughs. 

The thunder rumbles again, and huge drops of rain begin to fall. It's refreshing and beautiful in the middle of the desolate wasteland.

"Nice." Joe whispers, beaming. 

"So we just do this everywhere. Right. Easy." Pete says slowly, then shakes his head. "No, not easy."

"Yeah, how are we even going to get around?" Patrick asks. 

"Well, _you_ can probably fly." Pete answers, shrugging. 

Patrick frowns. "I guess? With getting attacked and all, I haven't exactly been able to test that."

"Then test it now." Andy suggests. "You can be a lookout."

"Sure." Patrick nods. He takes a deep breath and starts by slowly flapping his wings. 

It works. He lifts off the ground almost immediately, and lets out an admittedly embarrassing squeak of surprise.

"Nice!" Pete calls up to him, beaming. Joe gives him a thumbs up and Andy nods. 

Patrick nods back and starts flapping harder, quickly shooting even higher up. He stops when he's about three hundred feet up, to his estimate. His friends look so small down on the ground. He feels powerful up here. He loves it. 

The moment doesn't last long. He soon sees a gray blotch in the distance. When he squints, he realizes what it is. 

"Guys!" He screams, turning his head down and diving downwards. He feels wind rushing past him and even ruffling his feathers, which, god, that's weird. But somehow it also feels...right. Yeah, that's even weirder. 

"What?" Pete looks alarmed as Patrick suddenly stops and lands on the ground after nearly crashing into him. 

"Sorry, I just." Patrick takes a deep breath and rushes out, "They're coming. And I mean, like, a lot of Them. I don't want to try taking that many on right now. Can we please go? Like, immediately?"

"Yeah, I've got to agree with that." Andy nods thoughtfully. "We need to move anyway."

"Yeah." Joe agrees. 

"Sure, this rain is soaking me." Pete adds, frowning. "If They came, I doubt I'd even be able to make fire anyway."

"Well, move then!" Patrick says, turning in the opposite direction of the oncoming horde of Them. 

"Fly overhead and play lookout again?" Pete asks Patrick, running up to him. 

"Yeah, sure." Patrick nods, and adds, "You know, this is all ridiculous."

"Oh yeah. I know." Pete says, smiling and laughing. 

Patrick smiles back, just a small smile, and takes off, stopping about forty feet above the ground. He looks ahead, then gives his friends a thumbs up. They all nod back and start running towards new expanses of desolate land. 

Patrick takes a deep breath and starts flying along overhead, keeping his eyes on the distant horizon in case any of Them are coming from that direction. 

In that direction, someone looks out of a hole in the wall of a mostly intact house, and moves back to the smoldering campfire in the middle of the room, dreading what could be awaiting him out in what's left of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> told you this was gonna be weird
> 
> (also, did anyone catch what the bunker code is? hint: it's a date)


End file.
